Got My Flirting Jeans On
by Meridian31
Summary: "Don't tell me I'm the only one who noticed how great my ass looks in these jeans." / Drabble. One-Shot.


I knew better.

I did. I really, truly did.

When I drank wine, it was usually with the girls, and we were just got goofy.

When I drank beer, I was engaged for a little bit, but after a few all I wanted to do was sleep.

But with liquor, most liquors anyway, I became excited. Hyper. Adventurous.

Flirty.

And that's how I currently was in the backyard of Adam Cole's house with various other Ring of Honor wrestlers and staff, enjoying some drinks and each other's company. I didn't normally hang out with too many people on the roster, as I worked in production within the sound department. But given the amount of times I saw them throughout the past two years, friendships were inevitably formed.

One such friend, Greg, another production worker, was much closer to the roster. He'd been working for Ring of Honor for years longer than I had; he'd seen many come and go. He was the one backstage staff went to for help and assistance.

It was Greg who I blamed for my current state, which could best be summed up as 'one too many vodka drinks'. Chumbawamba would be proud.

When Mark Briscoe asked me to be his beer pong partner, I didn't even hesitate. Seeing Adam himself and Chris Sabin across the table didn't faze me. I wasn't close with them, but we were acquaintances in the way all co-workers were. We quickly decided to use water in the cups themselves, given we were all drinking different things. If a ball was sunk, we'd just drink our own drinks.

I was at that _just right_ level of drunk where I wasn't overthinking and was just aiming my throws the best I could. It seemed to work in my favor, with Mark and I knocking them down 3 cups quickly. But then they made a comeback, and then it was a back and forth. This led to a long stalemate of us with only one cup left, and the boys with two.

"Should we play dirty?" I inquired towards Mark, who raised his eyebrows before giving a swift nod. With his agreement, I shed the t-shirt I had been wearing, revealing a low cut tight black tank top. I didn't have a lot of boobage, but what I had, I knew how to make look great.

After adjusting myself, I turned back to face the other team and found both of the men just looking at me. Chris seemed almost...self-conscious in his gaze towards me, like he felt guilty to be seeing any of my skin. Adam however, Adam appeared to have no reservations as he let his eyes go over my newly exposed body area.

"Game on, boys," I all but purred, picking up the little white ball. With a wiggle of my chest and shoulders, I threw it and landed it right into one of their cups.

"I'm…I'm not even mad about that," Adam decided, fishing it out and picking up his beer. I gave him an exaggerated wink, to which he grinned, before turning to watch as Mark missed his throw.

There was some back and forth again, with each of us at one time managing to sink one ball but not the second into the other's cups. Finally, with sheer luck, Mark and I managed to win.

We gave each other 'good games' and handshakes, with Chris and Mark making theirs entirely over-the-top, with Chris trying to lift Mark up. Adam and I just laughed as we watched them.

"Wanna go grab another drink inside?"

I hadn't expected Adam to lean over and speak softly into my ear. His breath had caused a tickle on my skin, and a shiver to partially run through me.

"Yeah, sure," I agreed without hesitation. Adam turned and put his hand out, gesturing for me to go ahead of him. _Oh, aren't you a gentleman_ , I thought to myself as I headed up the two stairs and through the sliding door, which led directly into the kitchen.

A few other people were in the area, but within moments had vacated back out into the summer night, refreshed drinks in hand.

When I looked over my shoulder, Adam was still just inside the doorway, observing me.

"What?"

"Nothing," he replied, finally stepping further in, stopping a few inches from me.

"Why'd you stop walking?"

"No reason."

"Oh come on, Cole. Don't tell me I'm the only one who noticed how great my ass looks in these jeans."

"Oh, I noticed," Adam confirmed. "Kind of kicking myself for never noticing before tonight."

"Well, good thing the night's not over," I stated with a smirk developing across my face. "You can start making it up to me."

"And how will I do that?" he questioned, sliding a final step closer, so there were just inches between our bodies. I bit my lip, hoping I was achieving the flirty look I was going for and not a drunk mess. Based on the way Adam's eyes weren't leaving my face, I assumed I was doing OK.

I leaned just a centimeter closer to him, looking up from under my eyelashes at him.

"You…can…." I let my sentence trail off, letting the moment build for him. And then I quickly side stepped him and went to the kitchen counter. "Make me another drink." I happily sat down in one of the counter stools, laying my arms on the cool granite. Adam remained with his back to me for a moment, seeming to gain control of himself and realize what had just happened. When he turned to face me, he had an almost feral look in his eyes.

"Really?" he asked, clearly exasperated, and having thought something more was going to happen just now. I merely smiled at him.

"Get to mixin', Cole," I ordered cheerfully. "And after that, well, maybe we can discuss how great my ass looks _out_ of these jeans."

Adam had a bottle of vodka in his hand within seconds.


End file.
